FSE

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"Have you read the newest Revealer? The Pokemon minstrel Nando's gay!"

"What?!" I didn't expect the shriek. I jittered, squinted, and turned away. They didn't notice. "No, he can't be! I've got posters of him all over my room! How am I gonna look at em again after that?!"

"Well, at least that's better than Hoenn champion Wallace. The Revealer tells me he's a pokephile."

I tried to smile, tried to ignore this asinine babble. But they talked for so long it made my brain hurt, and I barely held back from wincing. I knew how stupid correcting them would be, but I couldn't stop myself. "You do realize they're both married with kids, don't you?"

The two brunettes across the matte gray lunch table from me suddenly silenced. They glared at me like I'd committed some sort of sacrilege. They glowered and furrowed their brows. One crossed her arms and gripped at the sleeves of her pink knit mini-sweater. The other put her hands in the pockets of those bluejeans that had to be a size too small for her. Why did I have to open my big fucking mouth in front of these ditzes? Fine then. If that's how it's going to be, bring it on.

"I'll put my money on the Revealer thank you very much," the girl in the mini-sweater said.

"Besides, guys do that all the time," the girl in the undersized jeans whined. "They get some whore to marry them for their money and make themselves daddies as many times as their little sluts can take, just to make such a public show of how much they aren't sexual deviants."

Sexual deviants? My chest tightened while my neck and arms tensed. I barely managed to stop my eyes from watering. What did they know about such people? No so-called sexual deviant makes a public show of trying to prove they're not. No, we don't... I mean, they don't want public anything. They want to disappear, to be forgotten forever. I sighed and dragged my plastic fork across my paper plate. I pulled the white icing of some store-brand chocolate cake across it, making claw-like white streaks around the half eaten brown sponge. I knew it was cheap, given subtle hint of a lighter fluid aftertaste.

I stayed cool on the outside, but it took most of my restraint to avoid going straight for her eyes.

"Hello Christie!" the girl I the mini-sweater said in a singsong voice, "You gonna brain out on us again, or are you just too crushed by that article?"

Haven't these idiots ever heard of pragmatism? I dragged my eyes up the pale blue walls, and toward the all stainless steel kitchen. No one but the three of us and the scruffy janitor in gray overalls could be found in this musty smelling high school cafeteria at four in the afternoon. He provided an odd ambience of squeaking heels, jiggling keys, dragging broom-bristles, and the occasional cough.

"Maybe she's just too good to talk to us normal girls," the girl in the small jeans grumbled.

More and more I thought they bought me that cake just to get the opportunity to harass me. And yet, somehow they deluded themselves into thinking they were just trying to help. I looked up at them, adjusted my frameless, rectangular glasses, and pulled back my bright orange curls with my free hand.

I sighed and shook my head before speaking. "Prove to me that Nando's gay." That ought to shut them up.

"Prove to me he's not!" the girl in the mini-sweater snapped back.

The girl in the small jeans quickly jumped to her support. "Yeah, really. I mean, like, no shit huh?"

I grit my teeth and squeezed my fork. Never underestimate the power of logical fallacies! One exists to counter any argument. I thought, since I'd never talked to them at length before, that they might've been different from other girls I knew. Why'd I agree to stay with them after hours anyway? I never even knew their names. Besides, better cake waited for me at home-not to mention a slick-skinned best friend following the clock's second hand, aching to give me my birthday present. Or at least that's what I hoped. Either way, I didn't need presents from mom so long as I got his present. I should've put my foot down to her, forfeited my gifts, and not tried to make any new friends after school. Mom understood anyway. She probably understood better than I did. Why did she insist on this if she understood? Back then I saw no explanation other than denial.

I should've left for home then, but something pained the back of my neck. I couldn't just leave an argument on the note of no shit.

"You can't prove a negative," I said. "That's why burden of proof is on an idea's supporter, not its detractor." It always sounded strange when I said something like that, since this fine city of Boston gave me an even raspier and squeakier accent than the girls across from me had.

The glowering, furrowed stares hit me again, twice as hard as last time.

"Oh my fucking god; why didn't anyone ever tell me she was that bad?" the girl in the mini-sweater said. She stood up on the bench, stepped onto and over the table, and sat down next to me. For a moment I almost wished one of those click-clacking, candy apple high heels of hers would break, and she'd fall over and smash her face against the floor. No such luck. She scooted toward me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I tightened my grip on my fork. The noise from the janitor slowed. He must've been watching. He knew about my temper.

"Look Christie," she spoke almost in my ear. "We're here because we're your friends. We're not like those other bitches you used to get into fights with. We're here to help you. And right now, I'm here to help you get a goddamn boyfriend before winter's over and you graduate. And trust me when I say no guy's ever gonna want a girl with an IQ higher than his."

"Unless of course you're a dyke," the girl in the small jeans added. "In which case no girl's ever gonna want a girl who hides behind glasses and coats and never shows off her... assets. I mean, you are a ginger kid aren't you? You gotta learn to play the role! Act like you got no soul. That's how you're gonna get what you want out of people."

Insults to my intelligence and dignity aside, I didn't need a boyfriend. Everything I needed waited for me at home. But I'd never hear the end of it if I told them that. I had to say something else.

"Where's the logic there?" I asked. "Besides, if being married with kids won't stop you from drooling over Nando, why should being gay do that?"

The girl in the mini-sweater pulled her arm from my shoulder and scooted away from me slightly. Her eyes widened and she bit her lip. She leaned away from me and clenched her fists, resting her knuckles against the bench. She looked genuinely frightened, not shocked like before.

"Shit Christie!" The girl in the mini-sweater nearly gasped. She calmed and rested her hands on the table. "You wanna die alone? Because that's seriously what's gonna happen if you go around barfing out words like logic your whole life. I mean, goddamn ginger! You need to trash all that elitist brains and self-esteem bullshit and learn to be a girl."

Learn to be a girl? My throat balled up and the hair on my neck stood on end. My breath fluttered and my chest tightened more. I suddenly understood what my social studies teacher meant when she said half the world's misogyny comes from other women. I tried to ignore the girl in the pink mini-sweater, tried to stare down at the cake, but she laid her hand on mine. I flung my hand into the air, throwing hers off mine. In the process, the head snapped off the fork I held, and its broken handle scratched an ugly, barely bleeding chafe across her palm.

"Ahhh! You bitch!" she screamed, and shoved me off the bench with a force I didn't know her stick like arms could muster.

I hit my head on the white vinyl floors and sounded something between a grunt and a huff. Throbbing pain immediately overtook my head, and I squinted as the lights seemed to glare many times brighter than they really were. I gasped for breath as the girl in the mini-sweater jumped up from the bench and stood over me, her high heels clicking against the floor. She dropped to her knees and swiped a handful of fake nails across my face.

"You're gonna pay for that you stupid cun--"

The rest came out like a gurgle as I wrapped my hands around her throat and squeezed. The girl in the pink mini sweater pulled at my wrists with no success. The girl in the small jeans wailed and pointed, likely too worried about dirtying those pants to help. The sounds faded, though I knew she still screamed. The cuts on my face dulled to a mild throb as I tightened my grip, ignoring everything but the thudding in my ears that insisted I squeeze harder. It would all be over soon.

That's when a hairy, tanned arm with rolled up bluejean sleeves, looking as big around as a Slaking's, grabbed my wrists and yanked me out from beneath the other girl with such force I thought they might dislocate. I screamed in pain before a calloused hand with stumpy, dirty fingers, lifted me up off the floor by the collar of my black parka. Another held the girl in the pink mini-sweater aloft across from me. The janitor! I was in a world of shit now.

I remembered that from twenty years ago. It was late-afternoon on my eighteenth birthday.

---

The school suspended that girl and me for two weeks. It didn't matter to me. I always got the most work done sitting in my room all day with the door locked, as I did now. Out of boredom, I sat at my matte black pedestal desk with an algebra textbook open, in front of a blue spiral-bound notebook. My laptop sat to my left with a dozen tabs on its browser, each on a website with some variety of Flash cartoon math tutorials. I finished twenty problems in an hour, not one of them actually assigned. It's not that I liked math, I just had nothing better to do, since I didn't want to wake my best friend.

I blindly reached to my right and fidgeted my hand around the desk to find a square Tupperware full of hot water, and the white washcloth within that I patted my face with every few minutes. The bleeding stopped some time ago, but after so long the cuts still started a throbbing ache. The water still steamed, and felt good on my hand. I balled and squeezed the washcloth, and patted my face down. I winced and gasped through clenched teeth, almost whistling. The ache vanished instantly, replaced with a searing sting. In seconds, it too, disappeared.

I huffed and pushed the text and notebook to my right, knocking the Tupperware off my desk and spilling hot water onto the sea green carpet. That didn't matter either, at least not compared to my face. I reached a hand beneath the washcloth, from above, pulled my glasses off, and stuffed them into my coat pocket. I propped my elbows on my desk and rested my face against both palms, pressing the cloth into it.

Oddly enough, I didn't cry, despite thinking I should have. I was sad, sure, but just a little. No, I actually felt some incredible relief at what happened that day. I had two weeks at home to get done thrice as much homework, thrice as much education, as I'd get with six hours of school interrupting every weekday. And I had a best friend to... smother me with affection whenever I needed it, which was going to be quite often after what happened with school. My mom shopped for presents and wasn't due back for some time. She didn't know what happened since she didn't carry a cell phone. That left plenty of time for cuddling and hugging and... ah fuck it! I can't delude myself anymore, not with that heat growing in-between my legs.

I snuck one hand from the washcloth into my olive sweatpants. Already I felt a wet drop on my panties. I pushed past them and wasted no time. With a grunt and a squint, my middle and ring fingers pushed inside my pussy, and my thumb inside my hood, its nail scraping the underside of my clit. I closed my eyes and wondered why women let their nails grow long, or even wore fake ones. Trimmed short and filed nails are best for scratching itchy clits. They're not so sharp as to make them raw, but just sharp enough. My insides oiled my fingers as soon as they entered.

I'd had it with math. It was time for me to shut down my brain and let my pussy think for me. I pushed and pulled my fingers in and out of a cunt growing ever slicker with each motion. Then I switched up and wagged my fingers from side to side inside me. Then I waved my hand up and down, dragging my fingers up and down in the process. All the while I kept scratching the underside of my clit. This wasn't the time for savoring. I needed to cum a.s.a.f.p. I closed my eyes and heard only my panting and the ruffling of clothes.

By the time I went back to thrusting in and out, I'd tactilely soaked the front of my panties, and my sweatpants had just started to dampen. I softly chewed my tongue and groaned through my nose. My toes curled involuntarily, and that familiar tingle went up my spine. I sped up my thrusting and scratching until the muscles in my forearm burned. The itch deep inside me turned into that creeping nameless feeling. Tickling would be its closest, but still spurious, synonym. It crept forward from deep inside my pelvis into my pussy, trailing along the top, making its way toward my clit. By then I heard the wet smacking as my fingers pistoned my pussy. I squeezed my eyes, tensed my calves and ass cheeks, and softly bit the side of my tongue as I whimpered. It came closer, and closer, and then... nothing.

My impending orgasm faded. I continued to pound my twat with my fingers, and even went so far as to scratch the top of my clit, so that it hurt. But it simply faded. What's worse, that terrible itch buried itself deeper inside me. No longer in my crotch, it now rested in my gut, and wasn't coming back out.

My slick-skinned friend: I needed him. He spoiled me so much this past year that my body grew accustomed to his inhumanly powerful fucking, and would no longer respond to anything else. I needed my present. I needed him to fuck me in that weird and wonderful way only he could. Once you get desensitized to that, nothing else will ever get you off again.

I scrunched back up against the chair and relaxed. I pulled my hand out of my pants as I cringed and my eyes watered, not quite enough to weep. My forearm stopped burning and throbbed in pain. I waited until the pain disappeared before I dropped the towel to my desk and stuck my slicked middle and ring fingers in my mouth. They tasted like sweetened copper, and smelled like plain wet flour. Bland city, but at least it was better than lighter fluid.

I spun my armless desk chair around and looked at my room. Everything was green, my favorite color, from the moss walls to the leaf-camo blankets on my bed, and the giant poster of a bamboo thicket that almost covered the wall by my door. A black torchiere lamp dimly lit the room. Through the row of windows just beneath the far ceiling, I barely saw the January snow falling so thick that it dropped visibility to near zero. Then I looked toward the guest bathroom.

The door was open, as was the sliding door further in. My best friend laid asleep in the tub. Being far-sighted, I saw it all with perfect clarity. He drew a scalding hot bat for himself, curled up in the tub, and zonked out from the heat. I needed him now, but I couldn't wake him. He loved hot baths so much that I couldn't drag him out of it. He'd do anything for me, so I had to do something for him. But it was still my eighteenth birthday, and I needed my present. Maybe I could make it up to him, I thought--buy him a box of pokeblock in return for his gift. Yeah, that should work.

The scratches on my face throbbed and ached again. I reached behind me for the towel and patted my face down. I stood up and tip-toed toward and then through the guest bathroom. The towel didn't sting as much as last time, so I fortunately stayed silent as I approached my best friend.

I stepped off the white linoleum floor onto the purple shag bathmat, and sat down on the toilet with its matching sheer cover. Mom loved purple as much as I loved green. She even tiled the walls around the bathtub purple. Maybe that's why she let adopt my best friend from the shelter to begin with. She couldn't resist his color. That's what I always told myself when I wasn't horny. But I couldn't delude myself when I was. The sight of him must've turned her on at the shelter as much as it did me in this bathroom. Up close, that itch deep inside my gut finally crept back into my cunt, which started to drip as I reached a hand into the hot bath.

My best friend laid coiled up like a spring in the hot bath. The tip of his tail lay over the edge, opposite his head resting against the sloped back, with half its hood above the water. Despite sleeping, I still saw his eyes open in the narrowest, watering slits. His jaw hung open, and his tongue hung out its side, down into the water. I smiled and giggled through my nose at the sight. He was so adorable like that, I almost couldn't wake him... almost.

I lifted my hand from the bathtub, and his tongue twitched from the sound of dripping water. I took my other hand out of my pussy and held it to his tongue, which twitched again. I ran the fingers of my free hand down the inner rim of his hood, the second most sensitive part of his body. Aside from the pebbly scales, his skin felt like those mirror-sheen coated vinyl seats at retro diners. He shivered at the touch, as he always did, and opened his eyes fully. He took another quick sniff of my fingers, sucked his tongue inside his mouth, and closed his jaws around my hand, so careful to not to hurt it with those two inch, razor sharp teeth. He apparently loved that taste far more than I did. He closed his eyes and wrapped his forked tongue twice around my hand, rhythmically squeezing in ripples that ran up and down, while those two ends of its fork corkscrewed around my juice-laden fingers.

I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut. My heart and lungs lifted into my throat, like I was on a falling elevator. Those tingles ran up my spine again, making me fidget on the toilet. And that itch in my pussy throbbed in need. Maybe it was the sense of danger with my hand in this lethal creature's mouth, even though I knew he'd sooner leap to his own death than even scratch me.

He let go of my hand and I let it fall into the bathtub, where I gently splashed hot water onto his hood. He shivered again from the feeling, forcing me to sigh.

"Sharrbokha?" he inquired.

"It's my eighteenth birthday Arbok," I answered. "And it's time for my present."

Holy shit was it time for my present! I rubbed my thighs together, desperate the quell he heat that flared up in my crotch from the touch of Arbok's tongue. I pulled my shoes off with my heels. I unzipped my parka and pulled my shoulders back to let it fall over the toilet. I pulled my navy tee shirt over my head, along with my bra, and dropped them too, to the floor. I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply, waiting for Arbok to take one of my 34 Bs into his mouth and start chewing, wrapping that tongue around it like an oiled rope and squeezing it softly. Instead I felt a smooth, scaly something touching my cheek, and hot air blow over it. I opened my eyes to see Arbok's nose against my face.

I put a palm to my check. I forgot the scratches. "I got into a fight with a girl at school," I said. "Do you think you could give it your kiss?"

"Shhhhar," Arbok hissed and nodded. He opened his gaping jaws right in front of my face, filled with those teeth. As he rubbed his tongue against the tips of his four inch fangs, I reached a hand into that mouth and ran my fingers along his inner gum line, tracing my pinky over his teeth as I did. Arbok murmured a growl from deep within his body. He loved that, as I could tell from his suddenly hastened breath and fluttering eyelids. I giggled through my nose again and pulled my hand out of his mouth.

Arbok leaned forward, as did I, and he dragged his tongue up my cheek, across my forehead, and down my other cheek. He leaned back, closed his mouth, and cocked his head at me. The pain disappeared instantly, replaced with a semi-numb coolness. He'd covered those scratches with the tiniest possible trace of his venom, which became a local anesthetic in such miniscule amounts. The tongue felt like slimy velvet. I couldn't help but shudder at its touch.

Now I had to kiss him back. I cupped Arbok's chin in my hands and pressed my lips against his muzzle. The bath made his body hot, much hotter than mine. The skin on his muzzle was like warm, textured glass, if glass was so flexible. He opened his jaw just a crack to let my tongue inside, where I reached it behind his upper teeth, feeling their sharp points and rubbing his inner gumline. His eyelids fluttered again and he growled into my throat in pleasure. I pulled out of the kiss, stood, and stepped into the oval bathtub, my feet on either side of Arbok's coiled body. The hot water instantly soaked my sweatpants and began to climb up them. The warmth climbed past the water and between my legs. I squatted and reached back to flip down the drain switch, and heard the gurgling of the emptying tub. I then reached up and pulled the knob all the way forward and left, and the nozzle stop up. I stood looking down at Arbok as the shower sprayed hot water on us both. His eyes glazed over, as they always did when he saw me standing above him.

I left the curtain open so it wouldn't get in the way of our sex. I'd towel up all the spilled water later. Right then and there, I had something far more pressing.

"Could you... take my pants off in that special way?" I asked.

"Sharr," Arbok answered with a nod.

Arbok slid his hood up the wall, standing as tall as he could without falling over. The water that remained in the tub sloshed about, and some spilled over the rim. Standing, he uncoiled his body from between my feet and curled his head around behind me. I leaned back, resting against the inside of his hood, and brought my feet together. The water splashed off the back of Arbok's hood and every which way, onto the floor, walls, and ceiling. The hot shower only sprayed my legs now. I rubbed my back and head into Arbok's hood. The inside of that hood, more than any other part of that precious serpent, felt waxed and buffed ten timed over. He curled his hood inward, wrapping it around my shoulders, and laid his head over my right shoulder. That hood almost scalded, like hot compress, and his velvet tongued slinked down and wrapped itself around my right tit. The ends of his forked tongue played with my nipple independently. I exhaled hard as it stiffened and sent those crawling feelings through my tit.

I shivered as Arbok began to coil his body around my legs. I couldn't stop him even if I wanted to. My muscles went limp. I'd have fallen over if Arbok hadn't held me up. I started to pant. I lifted my arms and rubbed my fingers in circles around the false eyes in his hood. He rewarded me with another deep growl of pleasure. Arbok finally started to squeeze my legs in ripples that traveled down his body, like his tongue with my hand. With those ripples he dragged my sweatpants and panties slowly down my legs until he'd scrunched them neatly against my ankles. Few of his talents could turn me on more than that. With my body limp, nude, and wrapped like mummy in my best friend, my cunt practically dripped at that point. My clit throbbed in need now, a throb that reached all the way back to my cervix, and only he could reach it.

The smell had to have been driving him insane. I could tell because his saliva practically lathered his tongue, which dripped off my breast as he kneaded it with that tongue. He pressed his head harder against my shoulder, his fangs against the skin on either side of my right breast. It fascinated me to see them trickle golden venom down my skin, the surefire signal that his lust had taken him over completely. I brought one hand down and rubbed those fangs, one with my fore and middle fingers, and one with my thumb. The water sheeting off Arbok's hood washed the venom away before it could numb my skin. He wouldn't let those fangs pierce my skin. He never has in the countless times he's done this.

Arbok lifted his head from my right shoulder and draped it over my left. Again, he pressed his trickling fangs against my skin and wrapped his frothing tongue around my left breast, massaging it in circles while his forked tips stabbed at my nipple, sending that crawling feeling through my other tit. I couldn't stop whimpering through my nose as he worked me up. I knew he loved that, but my pussy now ached with need, and I knew he would love it even more.

"That's en... uhh... that's enough Arrrrrr... Arbok. You knohuhuh, you know what I need nnng... now." I barely managed to talk as he still worked my left breast and still sent rippling squeezes down my legs.

He got the message. He lifted his head from my shoulder and nodded. "Sharrbokha," he said. He flicked that two foot tongue of his down my body, catching the scent of my weeping cunt, I was sure. I never understood why such a bland smell would drive him so crazy. But it didn't matter why he loved it, so long as he did.

Arbok curled around me, spinning me around with him. He slowly slid his body back down into the tub until his hood, with me wrapped inside, rested against its sloped end. Arbok circled around my body, sliding that so incredibly slick, polished, textured glass flesh against every part of my skin, making both my body and voice flutter. I'd gotten pretty good at home waxing these past six months, and kept only my eyebrows and the hair on my head. I didn't wax out of convention, but to better feel Arbok's skin slipping against mine.

I laid my hands on the serpentine body and felt it slide past. Arbok unwrapped me from his hood and coiled his body in the tub, back into its spring shape, with his head lying between my legs. I rested my legs on his coils just beneath his hood. He stared up at me and flicked that giant tongue at my face, making me smile. I closed my eyes.

"Gimme that tongue of yours Arbok," I sighed. "Shove it all the way in my pussy and make it dance inside me."

"Sharrbokha," he responded, and went to work.

I grit my teeth and gasped, and my arms and legs suddenly tensed. Before I knew what hit me, that tongue invaded my sex until it hit the back. The forked ends wrapped around my cervix, rubbing its outer edges back and forth in half-circles.

"Gyaahuhuhuhu..." I made something between a cry and a laugh as Arbok worked my cervix, brushing only the outside with the force of a feather, knowing anything more would hurt. But as it was, Arbok's tongue sent a tightening pleasure all the way up my gut, forcing me to tense my abs. I dug my fingers hard into his flesh, trying to pull him forward.

Arbok's tongue folded over itself and extended further, its end toward my entrance. His forked tip slithered its way out of my oily slit and then wormed its way under my hood. Each tip wrapped around my now red and stiff clit, and twisted in opposite directions. He was careful only to rub the base of my clit, so it wouldn't get unpleasant even when I cummed. At the same time he wriggled that folded tongue inside me in those familiar ripples. That tongue sent waves of heat and cold from my pussy to my head and toes and back again, and gave me goosebumbs in spite of the hot water spraying against me. My legs involuntarily rubbed Arbok's body in opposing circles, like pedaling a bike. How did I ever get through life with just my fingers? I really don't know.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," I stammered. "Oh, god I love you Arbok!"

The declaration made Arbok shiver and growl in pleasure, as it always did. I meant it too. Given that, how could I've made this better for him? Why'd I even ask that question? The answer was always the same. With what little control I had left of my body, I reached over the tub and fumbled about for my parka. I pulled it by the sleeve off the toilet, onto the floor, and felt for its inside pocket. Tucked away was a rolled up sheet of laser printed projector film, so I could read it in the shower. Perhaps that was the one good thing my high school gave me. It was dangerous to keep it on me outside the house, I knew, but I couldn't help it. I pulled it out of the pocket.

"How bout I read some of mom's old poetry, eh Arbok?"

That brought out an even greater shiver and louder growl. If being horny could be measured from one to ten, I could only get Arbok to a nine. It took mom's poetry to push him that last step.

"Alright then. Letssaugh! Let's do it!"

Arbok fluttered his tongue inside my cunt, forcing me to squeeze it, in turn forcing him to simply twist his now restrained tongue around itself, inside me. He wanted me to squeak and gasp as I read mom's poetry. Sure, I could give him that. I pinched the sheet by a corner and let it unwrap in front of me. With my shaking other hand I felt around the floor, now in puddles, for my parka. I reached into its outer pocket to retrieve my glasses, shake them open, and put them on.

"Shhhhrrrrbbbbbbghhh," Arbok tried to hiss in delight, but stuffing his tongue inside my quivering pussy muffled the sound.

I opened my eyes, squinting briefly to adjust to the light, and started reading aloud. "Gastrodon, green and red. I lick up and down your necks, and you give me that slime that tastes like the sea." My voice came out in groans, and I squinted, making it a trifle difficult to read. I focused harder. "Give me that salty mucus, Gastrodon. Crawl all over me and coat me from head to toe. Wrap me in slime and let me rub myself in with that salty slick."

"Shhhrrrgh," Arbok tried to trill in delight at the images I gave him, but still sounded muffled with his tongue buried inside me. I looked down at him to see golden fluid trickling from his fangs, around his body, and down the drain-his version of a watering mouth.

"Gastrodon, green and red," I continued. "I shove my mouth against yours, and inside is soft and sticky. Give me those leathery folds. Give me that bulb-ended tongue, covered in your citrus glue. Let me suck it off that bulb and swallow it, and quench my thirst with your slaver."

Arbok extended his tongue further inside me. Where it folded, it twisted around the rim of my cervix, so careful not to put on any pressure or touch anything closer inside. His forked tip worked my clit faster. I squeaked at the sudden sensations, now both in my pussy and my gut. His coiled body rubbed against itself, and his venom flowed freely down the porcelain and into the drain. I rubbed my legs harder against his twirling body, back and forth, around and around.

My best friend's oral work sounded like a suckling, slurping, squelching Swinub. And there was more. I felt a thick syrup drooling out of my sex. I knew I could drip, but I couldn't drool. I reached for my pussy with my free hand to find that with every motion of his tongue, a string of Arbok's saliva ran out of me.

"Oooooh, Arbok!" I teased in a singsong voice. "You wanna give me your slaver too? You go right ahead and fill me up with drool you nasty, slobbering snake."

He obeyed. I kept reading. "Gastrodon, green and red. I pull you each between my arms and stroke my hands down your sides, and you feel like warm, greasy suede. Take my tits into your mouths whole, and suck them inside. Rub those gluey bulbs against my nipples and make them tingle. Gastrodon, green and red. Crawl between my legs, bellies half to my sex, half to each other's. Let me see you suck each other's tongues down your throats and twist them around each other. Let me feel your ropey, worming cocks inside me, twisting around each other. Make them pump their burning hot, green goop onto each other, into me. I love you Gastrodon. And I love you, Gastrodon"

I skipped the last verse of the poem and went straight to the closing lines. What it said was a bit too gross even for me sometimes. How fucking nasty could mom have been when I was just a toddler? Did she really do such things with a pair of Gastrodon? Or was it just a really, really perverted fantasy? Either way, I was thankful for it, for without that poem, I would never have met my best friend. I put my hands under his chin for him to rest his head on. His venom trickled over my wrists, washed away instantly, touching my skin just long enough to give a nice tingling sensation.

"I love you Arbok," I said, mimicking the closing lines of mom's poem.

Arbok twirled his folded tongue along the outside of my cervix faster now. That forked tip played all over my clit, instead of just at its base. His wrapped up tongue spun side to side so fast inside me. He knew I was ready now, and he wanted to end this. The loud squelching that tongue made just brought it on faster. That feeling built up in my clit, and began to travel alongside the line marking the top of my sex. Deep in my gut it turned into a tickle and crawled down toward my pussy. Faster and faster, Arbok twirled his tongue around the rim of my cervix. More wildly, he rubbed his forked tips all over my clit. I lifted my ass up off the tub, supporting myself on my feet in this awkward position. The feelings crept closer to each other. Arbok's drool ran out of my cunt like a faucet. His fangs trickled golden venom into the tub the same way. I panted and rubbed my hands up and down the back of my best friend's hood.

The two feelings suddenly met each other, just behind my clit, and I gasped, thrusting my crotch up into Arbok's nose. He knew what to do then.

"Fuck Arbok!" I squeaked with fluttered breath. "Keep up that drool! Keep it up! Hmmmgggg!"

My pussy squeezed Arbok's tongue so hard it hurt, possibly for both of us. Immediately he pulled his folded tongue away from my cervix, and its forked tips out from under my hood. Now he just wriggled his twisted tongue inside my shuddering pussy, and rubbed my clit in circles through its hood. He did everything needed to make my orgasm as intense as possible, without directly rubbing my now hypersentive clit and cervix. That wonderful crawling traveled through my body in waves, forcing me to tense every muscle, and even giving me a slight headache. But my orgasm far more than made up for it. I squirted into Arbok's gaping jaws. It was just a spritz, but still it brought out another growl of pleasure from deep inside him.

I can't remember how long that lasted, but the next thing I knew, I fell limp into the exhaustion of afterglow. My arms shook, and all my muscles were sore from their former tension. I realized suddenly that I once again rested inside Arbok's hood, now behind me, lying against the sloped end of the bathtub. My glasses had fallen off my nose and wrapped around my neck. I picked them up and tossed them to the floor, on top of the projector sheet I also dropped unknowingly. I then realized the shower was turned off. Arbok must've pushed the knob back in with his tail. I wondered why he did that. I laid there for some minutes, inside Arbok's warm hood, breathing in the hot steam that still hung in the bathroom so thick I could barely see the door. I wondered how much of this heat pulsing through my body actually came from Arbok. The steam condensed on the ceiling and dripped to the floors. Teasing cold drops sometimes hit my stomach. I'll clean it up, I told myself. I'll clean it all up once I'm done.

I breathed deep to try to regain some strength, and then looked to the end of the tub to see a quarter of the way toward his tail. Arbok's twin cocks pushed open the horizontal slit just past his tail, and fell to either side. Hemipenes, they called it. They didn't look so much like cocks as the tapered tips of tails. They were textured like they were scaled, even though only salmon pink skin covered them. They were six inches long and two wide at their bases. I caught the scent of musty leaves and blue cheese, not the most pleasant thing in the world, but Arbok conditioned me over the last year to think it the smell of sex, and I didn't mind.

"Ssshhhhhh..." Arbok hissed as I reached down and quickly swiped a forefinger across Arbok's right cock. Though soft like flesh, it felt textured like a corn cob. My finger came back with a spot of translucent gray fluid on it, which I licked off for a taste of sour apple and sour cream.

"You cummed in your coils didn't you, you nasty Arbok?" I asked.

"Sharrbokha," Arbok hissed and nodded. He flicked his tongue across my face, making me giggle from the tickle.

"And you didn't want to wash away any of that cum did you?" I said, "You wanted to keep it as lube, didn't you?"

Arbok nodded again.

"Does that mean you can cum again?"

Arbok hissed, nodded, and flicked his tongue across my face again. I ran a hand along that tongue as he pulled it back into his mouth. He slowed his tongue as I did, telling me he liked it.

I reached the same hand down to my sex. Arbok's drool still dripped from it. The realization made my shoulders shiver. More important, I explored my pussy with a finger and found my clit no longer raw and my pussy walls soft. But just thinking about Arbok's twin cocks, my clit started to redden again. I must've been getting wet again too, thought I couldn't tell from all of Arbok's saliva. But that didn't matter. I removed my probing finger and raised it to Arbok's nose. He licked it clean.

"If that's the case, I should reward you for being such a good Arbok," I said. "How bout I take both your dicks at once, hmm? One in each hole? Whataya say?"

"Sharrr!" Arbok almost squealed.

My best friend wasted no time. He pulled his body forward and wrapped it twice around my torso. I laid my hands against his coiled body and ran them firmly up and down that glass-like skin. The last quarter of his body turned its side to me, and he hung his tail over the rim of the bathtub. I put my forearms on either edge of the bathtub and lifted my body, allowing Arbok to scrunch up his tail beneath me. I heard Arbok hiss and growl in turns as I reached one arm down to guide one of those cocks to my still hungry pussy, then the other toward my ass. Sitting down on top of Arbok, I winced slightly as they both easily slid inside of me. Arbok's cum was so slick and slippery, I didn't think it possible for anything else to surpass it as lube. Yes, my pussy and ass were both quite comfortable being double-penetrated by these hemipenes.

"Shahahaharr," Arbok stuttered.

"Oh don't worry Arbok," I responded. "Soon as I get comfy, you can get to work.

I got comfy. He got to work. I wriggled my back into Arbok's hood until his head rested on top of mine. He tightened his coils around me, just hard enough to hold me in place, and I continued running my hands, hard, up and down his skin.

"Gaugh!" I shrieked the instant he begun.

I shrieked as if in pain, but he knew it wasn't. I tried so desperately to rub my legs together, but a single coil round them kept them locked in place and helpless. Arbok didn't hump so much as he shivered. He shivered that last quarter of his body like it was rattled, though it wasn't. I looked down and tried to see him fucking me, but his tail was a blur. I could feel his speed, like a motor, but couldn't see it. One cock slid in as the other slid out, and then back again. I growled as those textured cocks blitzed my cunt and ass. Those ridges almost hurt... almost. He didn't have to start slow. Together we trained my asshole almost a year for this.

Arbok usually used one cock at a time. It took a while to teach him to use both at once, but when I did, he never wanted to go back.

I pressed my head back against Arbok's hood. At that moment all thoughts left my brain except must cum! The squelching hit my ears more times per second than I could count, sounding like wiggling gelatin. That was almost as good as the fucking itself. I felt like rapid electric shocks ran through my body from my ass and pussy. I couldn't help it; I started squealing like a Mankey. I struggled against Arbok's grip with no success, not that I wanted it, but it was just a reflex.

"Shahahahaharr," Arbok stuttered again.

As if my best friend's pounding wasn't enough, he let his tongue loose right behind my left ear, licking up and down, over and under. He switched up and licked behind my right ear, and switched again, and again. He pressed his tongue hard into my skin. Why'd he have to do that then? The first time we fucked, I taught him how much I loved it behind my ears, that it sent those tickling waves down my neck, forcing my shoulders to withe. Now this on top of sex? Why couldn't he have saved that for afterplay?! It was too much. I threw my head from side to side, for a moment not knowing what direction I faced. I'm sure he got a kick out of that.

Then a deep rumble from Arbok vibrated my chest. I knew what that meant. A moment later I felt hot liquid squirting into my ass and pussy, making them even slicker than before. The extra cum erased all friction from his cocks inside me, and I felt only the pressure of them pistoning in and out, in and out, and the bumpy texture rolling over my flesh. The lucky bastard didn't get hypersensitive when he cummed! He just hissed out loud and shivered that tail even faster. He made me weep. He kept going long after all the cum had drained from him.

"Arbok, you goddamn son of a bitch!" I squealed. "Keep at it! Don't stop till I cuuuaaaa!!!"

My orgasm had no warning. My pussy and ass tightened around Arbok's dicks, forcing him to slow down just enough so it wouldn't hurt. Or maybe he did that himself. I felt like scalding liquid flowed beneath my skin. My pussy squeezed so hard it cramped. Arbok overwhelmed every part of my body save two numb trails running down my neck, meeting at the small of my back. He must have been leaking venom down my skin in his ecstasy. That numbness would disappear in ten minutes after I rinsed it away. No human could ever make any girl feel this good. Mom knew that, and inadvertently taught me that as well.

Arbok slowed the shivering of his tail. The squelches slowed and deepened. He loosened his grip around me and kept slowing until I could count two plunges a second, one in my cunt and one in my ass. I stretched out and reached my arms back toward Arbok's hood, stroking its sides as he continued to lick behind my ears in this leisurely afterplay. I elicited hisses from him, and him giggles from me.

And then I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. Arbok, my best friend-I didn't want him at first. At the shelter, I was so disappointed that I couldn't adopt that Shellos. I was so disappointed in having to settle for the Ekans curled up next to the heating vent. I was so stupid not to see such a lucky break. I wanted to suck those cross-grained cocks of his and tell him how much he meant to me.

"Sharrbokha," Arbok hissed in my ear as he licked behind it. The pain vanished from his licks, replaced by those warm tickles and shivers in my neck and shoulders.

"Oh, you're such a good Arbok," I sighed. "You're better than any boy could ever be. Those girls at school didn't know what the fuck they were talking about when they said I needed a boyfriend. If you ask me, they need a couple of serpent Pokemon."

"Christie!!!"

"Aaaiiieee!!!"

I remembered that from twenty years ago. It was mid-evening on my eighteenth birthday. Though I didn't know it at the time, I'd eventually remember it as my second worst birthday.

---

You sometimes read about pokephiles in the news. They all swore their Pokemon loved it, and them, and weren't ever mistreated. Sometimes that was true, sometimes not. You could always tell which it was, instantly. But they all got treated the same anyhow. Here in the US they called it a mental illness. They locked you in a psyche ward for it until they found some drug cocktail that made you a good obedient member of the herd, and then gave you a job as a civil servant. I wondered for a brief moment if that would eventually happen to me. I thought my mom wouldn't do that to me, what with all those poems she wrote to a pair of Gastrodon who may or may not have existed.

For a briefer moment, another thought occurred to me. The pokephiles you read about tend to fuck common furred quadrupeds like Typhlosion, Mighteyena, or Floatzel. What freakish combination of whatever would make my mother hot for a couple of Gastrodon? And what was it doing to me?

When I was fourteen, I found those poems in an old red-leather bound diary, all written in nice calligraphy, which I didn't even know she could do. I found it stuffed in her drawer, beneath her shirts, which I rummaged through out of boredom one day while she was at work. My god were they disgusting! It wasn't just the Gastrodon, but the things she did with them. I'm not sure if half of what she wrote about would be legal even if they were human! I wanted to burn that book! I wanted never again to touch anything she touched. But somehow, I couldn't. As if someone else controlled me, I grabbed a black, spiral bound notebook from the closet down the hall and scribbled all those poems into it before putting the journal back where I found it.

Ever since, no matter how I tried to resist it, I found myself going back to that notebook I stuck beneath my mattress, frigging myself to orgasm while whispering those poems to myself. Were they crawling through my brains and taking over, like parasites? On some of those nights, I swore I would commit suicide if I ever went back to that notebook. But I never hurt myself, and I always went back to it. And now, two years later, it's taken me over. It's taken me over, and I liked it. I needed my own Gastrodon. I needed them to do all the things to me that mom wrote about.

I never told her any of this, of course. That would be suicide, which I didn't want anymore. I wanted Gastrodon! But goddammit, why doesn't anyone have any?

I sat on a yellow cushioned stool at a faux-wood counter, lining the outside of this quarter-circle room. I looked through a spreadsheet on a silver laptop bolted to the counter. I stared at sheet after sheet, each representing a different Pokemon center in the Boston metro area. I looked through their adoption shelters, but no Gastrodon, or even Shellos. My nipples stiffened, heated, and tingled, and my forearms tensed, as I clicked through those sheets, hoping against hope to find my prize.

I looked up through the hexagonally paned windows curving up this quarter of the dome, the shelter area of the Pokemon center. It was just southwest of North End, a little northeast of the JFK building. The view overlooked the harbor. Through the window I saw only a wall of snow covered high-rises. I guess whoever ran this place didn't think Pokemon could appreciate a nice view.

"May I help you?"

I opened the last page of the spreadsheet as soon as the words hit my ears. And there, three rows down, was a juvenile, male, east-sea Shellos-green, my favorite color. My heart and breath both fluttered, and every root of every hair on my head went cold. There he was, the partner I ached for these past two years! Then I suddenly felt nauseous, and my throat balled up. Mom would've known what I was thinking had I adopted that Shellos. She would've known instantly. I had to leave it. My gut felt empty and I almost wept. I found the perfect Pokemon for me, and I had to leave it.

All those thoughts occurred in only a second before I turned around to see some fifteen year old attendant in indigo scrubs, with an angular, clean shaven face and a pony tail. He was Mexican definitely, Oaxacan probably, given how dark his skin was and how soft his accent. Any so-called normal girl would've been tempted to ask him out right then and there. I wasn't, and the sting behind my neck made my disgust of that fact clear. That was mom I felt back there. She'd been introducing me to exotic tropical boys since I was thirteen: Mexican, Native American, Polynesian, Caribbean, the list goes on. She lavished money on them she could barely afford, and always suffered bouts of depression when I wasn't smitten by her latest catch. I suspected why ever since I got hold of that diary, but wouldn't truly believe it until four years later. As it was, I had to beg her for almost a year to let me adopt a Pokemon.

All those thoughts passed through me in another second before I blinked at him and said, "no."

The boy nodded and walked away. I looked around at the Pokemon adoption shelter. The copper outline of a pokeball sat in the center of the saffron carpets. The walls were painted scarlet, and all the rounded modernist furniture like... egg chairs and half-circle couches royal blue. No green anywhere! I bit my lip and looked around at the Pokemon. I saw Pidgey's and Poliwags, Sentrets and Sunkerns, Poochyena and Pachirisu, all common, all ordinary. Gastrodon was anything but ordinary. I wanted something different, something strange, something like... that!

My eyes wandered to a dull violet coil in the corner of the room, curled up next to a slotted vent in the wall. I stood up and began absentmindedly wandering toward it. Those beady yellow eyes stared at me as I came near, or at least I thought they did. It might've been asleep. Yes or no, it was awake when I put my hand on its head, which it lifted as it flicked its tongue at my wrist.

"Ekansss," it hissed at me.

I frowned in disappointment. I thought serpent Pokemon were supposed to be slimy! I wanted slimy. I needed slimy. I needed something to cover me in delicious gooeyness when I had to get off! This Ekans felt more like textured leather that had maybe a dozen too many coats of wax, and looked like it too.

"He's been here two years."

I sniffed sharply in surprise and turned around to see that same Mexican attendant boy. I looked toward the black glass half-circle help desk by the entrance and saw my mother eying the boy with one raised eyebrow. The fiery red curls, freckles, and thick glasses were only the most obvious similarities. If it weren't for the age gap, one might mistake us for twins.

She'd probably find some way to get this boy in the house, alone with me and close to eighty bucks of fancy take-out. I felt sorry for him.

"No one wants him," the boy said. "Most people don't even look at him."

Yeah, I felt really sorry for him. The fuck? He just talked about Ekans, not himself. I turned back to Ekans, who by then rested his chin on my palm and kept flicking his tongue at my wrist and over my black parka. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"People only come here looking for cute Pokemon like Pikachu and Bunneary. They all walk by Ekans without a glance. They all say he's slimy, but he's really not."

"Yeah, that's what disappoints me."

"I'm sorry?"

I looked at the boy. Shit! Had I actually said that out loud?! I calmed down on seeing his cocked head with a slight furrow. He hadn't a clue what I meant.

"Nothing, nevermind," I said without a hint of my real anxiety.

The boy shook his head. "I think he's given up on ever getting adopted. So all he does is lay curled up next to this here duct."

Ekans flicked his tongue at my wrist again.

"I'll take him," I said. I didn't even know I said that until seconds later.

I remembered that from twenty-two years ago. It was noon on my sixteenth birthday. Though I didn't know it at the time, I'd eventually remember it as my second best birthday.

---

Mom told me it was all okay. She told me everything in those poems was true. She told me it only made her happy to see how much Arbok loved me and pleased me. She told me she saw nothing wrong with pokephilia, that it was a beautiful thing. She told me she'd never tell anyone else what I'd done. If that were true, why'd she say it with such a deadpan voice? Why'd she never look me right in the eyes when she talked? And most of all, why'd she spend so many years and so much money and effort getting me alone with exotic young boys at night? No, she didn't mean any of that... except possibly the poems part. I expected her to kick me out of the house. I could cope with that. I already had a tech support call-center asking me to work for them. It could get me enough money to afford a studio and groceries.

But I never expected mom to do what she did. She kissed Arbok on the head and fed him a poffin after all!

I sat on a grayed old wooden stool in front of a weathered wooden counter, bolted to the wall with steel triangle brackets. Cardboard boxes walled me in on either side. Cords on the counter tangled around a spool of copper based solder wire, a red plastic tool box filled with mismatched tools, and bits of electronics that were missing other components. I held a soldering iron in one hand and a piece of wire in the other.

I worked on, or more like played with, an old NES motherboard and connector. I looked back and forth between it and instructions printed off the net of how to remove the authenticator chip and mount the board in a toaster. My nintoaster probably wouldn't work, along with the dozen or so other NES motherboards nailed to the drywall above. I'd only successfully restored and modded two NESes, and the nintoaster was one of the most difficult projects.

I did this more to kill time than to create anything. Mom said she had to go for a drive to think about what happened, and clear her head. And since I couldn't sleep, I had nothing better to do.

I wore my white ushanka and fleece, fingerless gloves. I could see my breath, the motherboard, and not much else. It had to be colder here in the garage than it was out in the snow! My nose was numb. The exposed light bulb above me swung on its wire, making the shadows turn in circles.

The cell in my inner pocket buzzed. I paused and put down the iron and wire, reached inside and pulled it out. It was mom. I flipped open the silver case and held it to my ear. She spoke with the same deadpan voice as before.

"Arbok is gone," she said.

"What?" I asked. "No, he's curled up under my bed like he always is at night."

"No he's not. He's in his pokeball. And I just dropped it off at the furthest shelter I could drive to."

What? What the fuck was she talking about? I left Arbok under my bed like I always did. He was zonked like he'd never been before, but that was just because of the crazy day we had. Wait... no! It wasn't!

"You put drugs in that poffin," I whispered.

"When I get back, you're going to the state hospital," she said.

"No I'm not," I replied, and closed the phone.

My mind blacked out during the brief conversation, my voice just as deadpan as hers. I dropped the phone and immediately went back to the NES motherboard as if nothing happened. I laid down lines of solder from the clipped wires of the removed authenticator chip to the circuits on the other side. I stared down at the new circuits I soldered. I nodded and smiled at how straight they were. Normally my solder lines looked like the broken edge of a cracker, but these were as if I'd traced them along a ruler. Maybe I really would get this nintoaster to work! Yeah. Then I'd strip the connector and replace its pins with white-gold clad steel. I was going to make this goddamn nintoaster my masterpiece. I grabbed a q-tip, dipped it in a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and brushed away the gunk clinging to the circuits. I did it perfectly, without brushing off even a trace of metal. I pried off the crusted old Ricoh chip and replaced it with the modern reproduction from a tiny ziptop bag to my left, guaranteed to last at least, well, forever. With a pair of tweezers and a tiny nail, I pried the pins off the connector. I took the q-tip to it again and rubbed all the gunk off it, again without brushing off any metal. I worked flawlessly. This would be the envy of NES modders the world over.

Then I took a rubber mallet from the toolbox and smashed the motherboard to pieces. A sadistic smile spread across my face as I heard the pounding and cracking, and felt the bits of plastic hitting my face. I tossed the mallet behind me and chuckled at the jagged fragments of motherboard on the counter.

For some minutes I sat there wondering why I did that. I couldn't remember. Images of my mother and beloved Arbok swam through my head, but I couldn't make sense of them. The only thing I knew for sure was that I had to escape. I didn't even know why. But the how came easier. Mom kept a shoebox full of old jewelry in her closet. A pawn shop waited just down the street, and with plowed roads so I could call a cab from there. It wouldn't be until I was on the plane that I remembered why I did any of those insane things. I became an automaton until then. I wept silently the entire trip across the Atlantic.

I remembered that from twenty years ago. It was nearly midnight on my eighteenth birthday. I was convinced it was the worst birthday I'd ever have. I was wrong.

---

She's been here almost ten years, since she was a little Tynamo. No one wants her. Hardly anyone ever even looks at her. They pass by like she's not there. I try to vouch for her, but everyone says she's just ugly and slimy. People only come here looking for cute Pokemon, like Clefairy or Buizel or Minccino. I think she's given up on being adopted. That's why she just lays there in the bathtub all day.

My lungs froze when I heard those words. Goosebumps covered my arms and legs, and all the blood drained from my face, leaving it pale and cold. I remembered seeing the indigo scrubs from the corner of my eye, and literally expecting that young Oaxacan boy to be there when I turned, instead of the seventy year old, bleach-haired Dutch guy with the mustache and rimless specs. The thought of turning down this Pokemon turned those words into red hot pokers under my fingernails. I couldn't do it. The lime green and oily skin made adopting it easier, thankfully. But why would petting a Pokemon, only for it to coat your hand in slick, make it desirable? I had some hazy memory of wanting such a thing, but the words the attendant spoke blocked it out. I remembered it fully only after I took her home with me.

I remembered that from eighteen years ago. It was only a week after my daughter was born, so maybe that had something to do with how strongly I reacted. Whatever caused it, I signed the adoption papers less than a minute later, and biked back home with a new pokeball strapped to my belt. I had no idea that the starving, empty feeling that swallowed my mind and body for two years was about to end.

When I first got off the plane in London, they wouldn't let me out of the airport terminal since I didn't have a passport. I wasn't going back to Boston, that was for goddamn fucking sure! I spent the night in the terminal, playing with a computer and looking for any place that might take me in. I found a northern European country called Skandia, about the size of West Virginia that would give pretty much anyone a visa if they agreed to work their government's lowest and most mind-numbing paper pushing jobs for six years. I booked a flight that night, and the next day I became an office clerk and revoked my US citizenship at the embassy.

I couldn't believe what they had me doing! I had to walk around the office and reread my papers six times before I finally believed it. Did they know why I came here? Or did they stick me with this job because of how desperately I begged and sobbed for them to let me stay? Did they think I would stoop to any low? Or did they know this would actually intrigue me? They stuck me in a dark, musty, charcoal gray cubicle in some basement and told me to process all the state inspection papers that came to and from the country's biggest Pokemon porn studio! And at night they had me bike files to and from the studio itself. 'Pokemon Lover Studios' they called it. I didn't even know a place existed where this shit was legal!

I got to know a few people there, and after two years it became too much. Reading those reports, seeing those people... doing such things with their Pokemon, and in front of the camera for fuck's sake! That burning, itching, and throbbing in my pussy wouldn't go away no matter how hard I frigged myself. I needed a Pokemon! Then I heard the attendant speak those words, and took that green, slimy thing from the shelter without even thinking. She was female for fuck's sake! And even if I were into females, which I wasn't, she didn't seem the kind that could satisfy me. That's what I thought at the time, and I was so thankful to be wrong on both accounts.

I leaned back against the seats of this square room. They were gel-padded, upholstered in some kind of dark gold colored synthetic that felt like silly putty, but wouldn't be cut even by a hacksaw. The same stuff padded the floors, and the cedar walls climbed almost twenty feet to the domed skylight roof. The snow melted as soon as it touched the glass, giving the weirdest visual, like rain pouring down the glass in super slow motion. A foot or so of water covered the floor, and water trickled from a faucet onto the plate of an induction heater in the corner, providing constant steam and sizzling. The water dripping from the glass ceiling warmed by the time it hit me. They called it a Skandian Hot Tub.

Six years processing this studio's paperwork got me a job at the studio itself as a desk-clerk, where I'd worked for the past twelve years. This was my thirty sixth birthday. The studio's owner gave me the whole day off with exclusive access to the estate's spa. I could do anything within and she'd pay for whatever needed cleaning or repair. I wondered why. Though she gave insatiably to charity, I've never seen nor heard of her being so personally generous. I could think that through later. I wanted to make as much of this day as I possibly could.

I slid down the seat and fell onto my palms in the pool. By now, of course, the water had turned gray and viscous. I wriggled my ass into this fluid and rubbed my legs together within it.

"You really know how to make a girl feel good, don't you?" I sighed.

I lounged in a pool of what seemed to be slippery, stretchy, gummy rice noodles. I dug my hands inside, pulled up two elastic globs, and rubbed them all over my shoulders and waist. I pulled up more and covered my arms and my neck. I slid down and rubbed my back and hair into the stringy mire. Everywhere it touched made my skin catch fire, so I grabbed a handful and stuffed it into my moss green bikini bottom. I rubbed this slick in circles around my pussy, and dangled a stretching piece over my mouth. I let it fall onto my tongue and slurped it up. It had no taste or smell, but just sucking down those elastic, slimy strings made me moan in delight. I needed to get fucked so bad right now!

"I love everything slippery, and I love everything slimy, and I love you," I whispered.

It was true. Eighteen years and I still couldn't get over those poems my mother wrote about those Gastrodon. The way they squished like water bags, the way they coated her in slime both inside and out, I couldn't get it out of my mind all these years later. Despite what she did to me, and I still hated her for it, those poems crawled through my brain like parasites, commanding me, and I loved every moment of it.

I pushed the slimy strings inside my pussy, and played with them inside me with my fore and middle fingers, pulling the strings apart and feeling them coalesce back into more strings. I've never felt anything so slippery in my life. I grit my teeth and arched my back as I pushed more of the fluid inside my snatch until I had it stuffed, and then slowly squeezed it back out, before stuffing more inside.

"My tits are as full as my pussy right now," I said. "You think you could take care of them for me?"

Flesh brushed past my legs, feeling like a cross between leather and velvet. I pushed myself up against the seat and glanced down. A lime-green, serpentine form with two massive, arm-like fins, wriggled back and forth through the fluid, easily escaping its grasp and lifting its head up. A white paste dripped out of the yellow spots on its neck. The drops fell into the pool and instantly expanded to dozens of times their size once wet, turning into the slippery strings my lover girl once used to escape predators, but now used to drive me into a sexual frenzy.

She lowered her head as she had to in order to look at me. Her eyes were upturned and glossy, with utterly dilated pupils. I found it curious how my lover girl could make almost any shape with her eyes, and consciously control their dilation. Those eyes, in their yellow stripes, were infinitely more expressive than any human's. They had to be, as they were her only form of expression.

She wagged the long, flappy fin trailing from her head, and growled and hissed through that red-ringed sucker mouth of hers. Mixing up all that stringy slime for me made her incredibly thirsty, so I obliged her.

---

I still pushed and pulled handfuls of those slick strings into and out of my sex, sending a dull itch and throb up it, making my clit stiffen in need and my pussy suck them inside as if greedy for more. With my free hand I reached up behind me and pulled the string on the back of my bikini top. I brought my hand forward and pulled it off my chest. Slimy strings stretched between the fabric and my tits. They ached and needed release. She could tell just from how raw and swollen my nipples were, and she slurped and smacked in anticipation.

My lover girl gurgled and narrowed her eyes as I reached under her mouth and scratched the tea-green underside of her neck. "You know how much I love getting all slippery and slimy, don't you Eelektross?" I said. "Now it's time to give you what you love."

My Eelektross, no, my shiny Eelektross, a true rarity, slurped and smacked again at my words. She slinked through her slime and slid her neck up my skin. I still kept myself waxed, and that feeling made me squint and wriggle my toes. With the suckers on her fins, she grasped the seat I laid against, and clamped that sucker mouth on my right breast, engulfing it, and fixed its four outer teeth onto my skin. Eelektross closed her eyes as she started rhythmically sucking.

Spirals of retractable teeth filled Eelektross's sucker mouth. But she wouldn't unsheathe those teeth when sucking my tits. She never has in the countless time's she's done this.

I gasped and sighed and bit my lower lip. My breast wouldn't give up immediately, and the sucking hurt. But after a few seconds, a thin stream of milk finally squirted out of my nipple, down Eelektross's throat. She wriggled her tail and the fin on her head, gurgling in delight as she sucked down my warm nourishment. I put my hands over her neck, just behind that fin, and pulled her against my tit. The milk emptying felt a lot like my bladder emptying; the relief was the same. As a bonus, it sent waves of warmth through my body, forcing me to pant and rub my legs together.

I became completely still. My breath and heart slowed, and I pulled harder on Eelektross. From the relief in my right breast spread a feeling of total relaxation. My ears zeroed in on the sucking sounds Eelektross made as she slurped up my milk. Minutes went by with me still as a statue, until Eelektross unlatched from my right breast with a popping sound, and latched onto my left. The same emptying relief, the same warmth, and the same relaxation then spread from my left nipple as Eelektross slowly squirmed side to side as I nursed her. Even my pussy warmed from her suckling, and involuntarily I went back to pushing and pulling her slimy strings in and out of my wanting sex.

"You filling up there girl?" I asked. "I know Eelektross get their best sex on a full stomach."

Eelektross gurgled into my left breast in response to my words, vibrating it and making me giggle, and my spine squirm. The next gurgle was slower and deeper, and I almost swore she was actually laughing, laughing at making me squirm! She gurgled harder, buzzing my left tit and forcing me to writhe through her slimy strings as I grit my teeth. Then she brought her tongue into the mix. It was bizarre, completely cylindrical, an inch across, tapering to a needle thin tip.

"Yeeaah! You bitch!" I squealed. "You're enjoying this aren't you!?"

Confirming my accusation, Eelektross gurgled even harder, and stabbed the tip of her tongue into the hole in my nipple. I shrieked as a terrible electric shock sent sharp pain through my tits and into my bellybutton, forcing me to arch my back and dig my fingernails into her flesh. For a split second I thought someone stabbed me.

"Why the fuck did you... uhhhnnggg!"

Eelektross suddenly pulled the tip of her tongue out of my nipple and ceased the flow of electricity. Milk sprayed from it like a hose, which she sucked up with her slurping sounds. The sharp pain in my nipple remained, but the relief, warmth, tingling, and relaxing feelings suddenly multiplied by I don't know how much. Every muscle in my body turned to jelly, and I fell over into Eelektross's stringy slime as she slithered over my body, her mouth still clamped to my left breast, gulping down the milk that poured from it. In a quarter the time it took for my right tit, my left emptied, and I gasped and squeezed slime in my hands. My clit throbbed, sending pulsing pleasure up my crotch and into my bellybutton.

I couldn't control myself. I reached down with both hands and grasped my clit between my two forefingers, rolling it hard and fast between them. In seconds, my clit felt on fire. My pussy spasmed and squeezed shut hard as it could while the pulsing pleasure on my nub became too much, and I had to push it down with my forefingers. I pulled my legs back and pushed them through the slime one after the other. I shoved my ring and pinky fingers into my pussy as it loosened, and rubbed down its walls with the stringy slime. A few more seconds and it all started to die down, and Eelektross unlatched herself from my left tit.

The crawling feelings running down my arms and shoulders forced me to wriggle more, and I tried to catch my breath with heavy panting. The feeling of being on a falling elevator was fading. It disappeared after a minute

I weaned my daughter after three years. But I loved the feeling of nursing so much that I didn't want to give it up. Instead I gave my milk to my lover girl. Eelektross watched intently every time I nursed Chloe. When I offered her my tits, she knew exactly what to do with them, and didn't hesitate.

"That was amazing," I sighed. "You ever do that again and I'll skin you and make you into a wallet."

Eelektross looked at me, narrowed her eyes, and made that deep, slow gurgle again. She laughed at me! I snarled and growled, slipping over the floor covered in a foot of slime as I tried to push myself onto my knees. I feel over twice before succeeding, eliciting more laughter from Eelektross.

"Oh yeah! You're laughing!" I shouted. "You think it's funny! You're having a good time! You're gonna be so fucked when I'm through with you."

I launched myself at Eelektross and tackled her into the slime, wrapping my arms tightly around her neck. We fell into the slime with a splat. She still gurgled deep and slow. The bitch still laughed at me!

"You still think it's funny?" I asked. "I'll teach you to laugh at me, you human fucking whore."

I crawled around and over Eelektross. On my hands and knees, I looked down at that tail of hers, swaying slowly side to side through the slime, making squicky sounds as it did. That twelve inch long cloaca rested between those tea-green fish fins, a swollen slit with a pinkish inner rim begging to be fucked.

I caught Eelektross's attention. I knew that because she silenced. I didn't know it was because I'd unknowingly stuck my ass right in front of her face.

"Now I'll teach you to pull shit like that on me," I growled.

With my thumbs and forefingers, I pulled open the front of that cloaca, and inside I found a pink pussy a lot like a human's. It was the same size and shape, with the same small round clit, though without a hood. It had no outer lips, but I figured the Cloaca already served that purpose. Her asshole hid in the far end of those twelve inches, so I didn't have to worry about it. Those fish fins shook like beating insect wings as I breathed on Eelektross's pussy. So absorbed in it, I almost didn't notice when she snagged my bikini bottom with the claws on her large fins and snapped it off. I ignored that and focused on my prize.

I brought my mouth to that pussy and dragged my tongue across it. However alike it was to a human cunt in appearance, it was so different in taste and smell, or at least different from mine. It smelled like some sort of smoked meat, of what kind I couldn't identify, but it was good. My nose touched Eelektross's sex, and it was so strong I swore I could almost smell ash. But when I dragged my tongue across it again, I tasted lobster and honey. So I dug in.

Suddenly I got a much different sound out of Eelektross. It was a kind of warble, like trilling and clicking at once. That was my lover girl's sound of pleasure, and I wanted it louder. I dove deeper into her pussy. I gripped the sides of her cloaca with my ring and pinky fingers, and pulled her lips apart with my forefingers. An orange syrup leaked out of her sex. I licked around the insides of her walls, slurping up as much of it as I could, confirming it was syrup in more ways than one. It tasted just like sweet tarts. I compared that to my own taste and wondered if any human pussy could be that good. Maybe. I don't know. But I've gotten hooked on hers, so I didn't care.

I'll be damned if I wasn't going to get a full meal out of my Eelektross. I sucked on her clit, and teethed it ever so lightly. She grabbed my ass cheeks with her huge fins and suctioned them to my skin. Her warble doubled in volume and speed, and her sex leaked more orange syrup, which I again licked from her walls before returning to her clit to free up yet more.

Eelektross's warble suddenly stopped, and I jittered in shock as something latched onto my pussy and sucked like a vacuum. Eelektross's mouth found my pussy, and narrowed to fit itself over my crotch. I relaxed and went back to sucking and teething her clit, even though I felt the tips of her teeth unsheathed against my ass cheeks. The sense of danger made my spine tingle and made me wriggle my back, even though I knew she'd sooner leap to her death than even scratch me.

I moaned and signed into my lover girl's pussy, sucking up that orange liquid sweet tart as loud as I could. We both loved the slurping sounds I made, and she dug harder into my sex from them. I suddenly felt that tongue of hers inside the walls of my cunt. I moaned and wagged my ass back and forth as she wriggled that tongue deeper inside me, and then traced circles around the rim of my cervix with its sharp tip. She was so careful to press so gently against my cervix, and not to touch anything other than its rim. I would hurt if she went beyond that, but she didn't.

I focused all my attention on Eelektross's clit, tonguing, sucking, teething, now ignoring the orange syrup that smeared my lips and nose and leaked down the walls of her cloaca. She warbled into my pussy and started gently chewing my ass cheeks. She still didn't pierce skin with her teeth, and I knew she never would. The fins around her cloaca fluttered, smacking into her stringy slime, sounding like lips smacking a dozen times a second, and driving me crazy with need. Her tail swished back and forth with enough force to send waves through her slime, which came back around and splashed against my arms and legs. Sometimes the strings got into her own pussy, and I eagerly sucked them up.

What was I doing? I was sixty-nining a female Pokemon, and not just any Pokemon, but a slime secreting eel! I felt no shame in it, only lust, joy, and the snark of play-fighting. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Eelektross started kneading my ass cheeks with her suckered fins resting just outside her mouth. That's how I knew she was about to cum. And I knew I'd cum at the same time. Only she could ever do that consistently. I prepared by running my fingers up and down those twelve inches of cloaca.

Suddenly, my lover girl's whole body started shivering, and that's when she did it. Eelektross's tongue curled into a spring shape, brushing past my clit, pressing into that ridge atop my pussy, and barely touching the rim of my cervix. Then, a surge of electricity ran through that tongue. My clit, g-spot, and cervix instantly seized, and I shrieked into her pussy as that orange syrup squirted into my mouth, and she warbled like she was dying, though I knew it wasn't pain she felt. My own pussy sprayed into her suckered mouth while the rest of my body seized from the surge. This orgasm was different. Every part of my body felt it. My hairs stood on end. My every muscle tensed. The pleasure traveled like warm water up from my pussy, into my gut and the back of my neck, and through my legs. I clenched my hands and feet. The taste of sweet tarts blasted into my own mouth so hard I couldn't swallow it. It dribbled from my lips down Eelektross's sides.

The electricity stopped flowing, and Eelektross detached her suckered mouth and fins from my crotch and ass, and let her head fall back with a splat into her slime. I barely had the strength to sit up on my knees. My legs wobbled as I did. I fell back beside Eelektross with my own splat, and reached a hand through that stringy slime to wrap around her neck.

Eelektross hissed and clicked into my ear, giving me an idea.

"Could you lick behind my ears?" I asked.

Eelektross warbled softly and stuck her tongue out almost ten inches. It was the same lime-green as her sparkling skin, and dripped clear saliva. She whipped her tongue every which way before dragging it slowly up and down behind my right ear, then my left, then right, left, right, left. No words could explain how much I loved it behind my ears. My lover girl sent those tickling waves through my neck and shoulders, forcing me to giggle through my nose and shudder.

I thought, as I wiggled against Eelektross and rubbed my legs up and down her tail, about mom's old poems. She couldn't express in words how much she loved being covered from head to toe in slime, and neither could I. How lucky could I've possibly been to find my Eelektross lover girl? I couldn't imagine. She warbled softly as I planted a kiss between her eyes.

"I love you Eelektross," I whispered.

"Obviously."

"Aaaiiieee!!!" I screamed.

Eelektross sounded something between a shriek and a hiss. We both leaped out of the pool of slime and fell onto our stomachs before pushing ourselves up and looking at the swinging glass door to the Skandian hot tub. Set on chewing out the ass of whoever decided to interrupt us, we both suddenly gasped and backed up when we saw who it was.

It was my boss! ... Naked? Smirking? Even then she held a cigar in her right hand. How the hell did it stay lit in this steam? I sat cross-legged in the pool of slime and crossed my arms over my tits, not looking her in the eyes. Eelektross looked her in the eyes, but only while hiding behind me. Why did I do that? I'd walked in on her fucking Pokemon at least a hundred times and she never gave a damn. But she intimidated me. She intimidated both of us.

"Hello Coral," I whispered. I couldn't say anything else.

Coral nodded and sat down cross-legged in the slimy pool. She picked some slime up with her free hand and let the strings run through her fingers. She took a drag on her cigar, pushed the door open with the back of her head, and tossed it outside before exhaling. She looked at me and smirked again.

I couldn't say anything back to her. I also couldn't stop staring. She was half a foot taller than me, with more curves, perkier tits with maroon nipples, and black hair that shined like obsidian. She looked younger than me despite being forty four. Then, there was her mouth. Every time she spoke, it was like a well-rehearsed speech. It wasn't that she couldn't ramble, just that every word that ever came out of her mouth was direly purposeful. I've never been intimidated by another woman until I met her.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"I was wondering," Coral said, "if I could join in on your fun, maybe get a taste of why you love Eelektross so much."

What did she just say? For a time I couldn't understand her, and then blinked rapidly when I realized she'd just asked for a threesome between me, her, and Eelektross. Who the fuck did she think she was, my boss? My boss! My breathing became shallow and my throat balled up when I considered refusing her. Thankfully, Eelektross spared me the trouble by hissing and shaking her head at Coral.

My throat and lungs opened up as Coral shrugged her shoulders.

"It doesn't hurt to ask," Coral said. "But still, if you don't mind, I'd like to take all this secretion to the lab when you two are done. I'm wondering if it can be used as a skin product."

I shook my head, "Uh, sure."

Coral picked up two stringy gobs of Eelektross's slime and rubbed down her stomach, shoulders, and tits with it. Her expression remained unreadable. I swallowed, though my mouth was dry. She rubbed some all over her face and then wiped it all off. If rumors were true, Coral spent millions every year on purely experimental skin products.

"I can see why you like this stuff," Coral said. "But I'm here on much more serious matters. It's about your mother."

Coral narrowed her eyes and looked away from me. Such a small gesture from her was like a crying fit from anyone else. In spite of the hot steam and slime, I felt cold under my skin. My throat balled up again as stomach churning terror welled up inside me. My eyes watered and my breath fluttered. Eelektross must've sensed it, because she wrapped her neck and tail around me, clicking into my ear. I wrapped my arms around her.

"I gave you free reign over the spa today because I thought you would need it. If you like, you can have it for the rest of the week."

Why was Coral being so generous? I've seen how she handles employees. It's as if she can turn her conscience on and off at will. I've seen her shanghai strangers into her employment with legal trickery. I've also seen her hire million dollar attorneys for those same employees when someone tried to pick a fight with them in court. And don't get me started on Christmas gifts! But she's never been so personally generous to anyone that I know of. Whether being vicious or bleeding-hearted, it was always at a distance. So why now? Why me?

"What is it?" I asked.

"Your mother is dead," Coral said. "She committed suicide by nitrogen asphyxiation one week ago."

Eelektross wrapped herself tighter around me, and I around her. My pulsing afterglow turned into the feeling of being kicked in the gut. My ribs tightened around my lungs and heart, and the blood drained from my face, numbing it. Dead? My mother was dead? I hated her, yes, but I still wanted to talk to her at least once more before she died. I just wanted to know why she did that to me. One question would've been enough. Just a few minutes would've been enough.

"When I received word, I sent a private investigator to the scene, and he managed to trace the whereabouts of your Arbok."

Eelektross hissed and turned her head sharply toward mine. Arbok! I haven't thought of him in almost a year! Long ago I told Eelektross that she healed my broken heart, broken when mom took Arbok away from me. But now I shuddered uncontrollably. What would I tell him now? What would it do to him seeing me with a new lover? How much would it hurt him? Would it be as bad as it was for me when mom took him away? The shame nauseated me.

"Where is he?" I asked in that same deadpan voice I had on my eighteenth birthday.

"I'm sorry Christie, but your Arbok is dead," Coral said. "The police shut down the shelter your mother took him too for cruelty and neglect two years ago, one year after Arbok starved to death."

My mind blacked out just as it head all those years ago. I stared at coral wide eyed and slack-jawed, unblinking, motionless. Eelektross tried to warble softly in my ear. I heard it, but on some level wasn't aware of it. I could only see Coral. I could only think to scream at her for playing such a sick joke on me, but I couldn't make a sound. Then, something amazing happened.

"While Arbok was at the shelter, he had a daughter," Coral said. "The mother was a Ditto, so the daughter was another Arbok. She's already on her way here. I've ensured she switches out flights so many times that even I cannot track her. She should be here in one week. If you would like, she can be yours."

"No!" I shouted, "It wouldn't... I wouldn't feel right. I don't deserve her. I couldn't protect Arbok when I needed to. I don't deserve his daughter. You keep her."

Where did that suddenly come from? Not a thought came with any of those words. Coral glanced away from me again and nodded. She sat up on her knees and waded through the slime pool toward me. Before I knew it, I buried my head inside her tits and I bawled louder than I ever had before. Coral wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and Eelektross continued to warble softly in my ear, trying to comfort me. Then Coral put a finger to my lips, and I stopped at once and looked up at her in confusion.

"My private investigator found that your mother burned her poetry journal before committing suicide. But he found another journal she'd purchased the day before she killed herself. She wrote only on the first page. I can recite the exact words."

All emotions left me as Coral continued speaking, all except shock, fading into confusion. My eyes dried and my brow furrowed as I listened. The more she spoke, the more that rotting, starving feeling in my gut took over.

"Gastrodon, green and red, why did I fall in love with you? Why didn't I listen to mother? When you fall in love with Pokemon, they die. That's what you told me, mother. But I didn't believe you. Gastrodon, green and red, but no longer. All I see is brown, spraying on the ground as if from a broken snowcone machine. Gastrodon, green and red, your screams make my ears bleed as the wood chipper swallows you. All the while you stare at me as if thinking I can somehow save you. Then there is only silence. Why did I fall in love with you? Just so uncle can grind you up in front of me? Why didn't I listen to you mother? When you fall in love with Pokemon, they die. They die just like your lover, your sweet, precious Gliscor, whom your father impaled through the heart with a railroad spike."

My heart and breath fluttered. My whole body shook. My mouth had never been so dry. Even Eelektross groaned in pain. Me, my mother, and her mother? How long had this gone on? How many generations?

"Your mother suffered from magical thinking," Coral said. "In her mind it was the inanimate world and circumstance that conspired to kill Pokemon lovers, not other people. She was convinced Arbok would die, delusionally. Nothing could dissuade her from that. Her logic was nonexistent, but in her mind she was only trying to protect your feelings. She wanted to be sure Arbok would die somewhere where you couldn't see it. She wanted you to never know he died."

I remembered that from ten years ago. It was noon on my thirty sixth birthday. It was the worst birthday I ever had.

---

When a man and a woman love each other very much, they sometimes decide to spend the rest of their lives together. What a crock of shit! I knew that even when I was four years old and asked mom where babies came from. She quite euphemistically described sex to me, but I got what she meant. Then I thought, do a man and a woman really have to love each other, and spend their lives together, to do such a thing?

I walked up to the premier actor of the Pokemon porn studio I worked at, someone so different from any other token black guy I'd ever seen. He stood several inches shorter than me, and had an upturned nose. His hair didn't even frizz! That, of course, was back when he was skinny and cute. Anywho, I walked up to him and said, "Otis, you got a perfect baby face, better than twenty-twenty vision, a doctorate in linguistics from the world's priciest college, and a grandmother who still swims laps every day at a hundred and three. I wanna have your baby." And Otis raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and said in his cockney voice, "sure, why not?"

Next thing I knew, I was on my chest with my bare ass up in the air while Otis pounded me from behind. I barely felt anything beside his pelvis slapping my ass. I passed the time playing Super Mario 64 on my DS. That's where babies come from in the world of Christie McKieth.

I remembered that from eighteen years ago, and the result was more than I could ever have hoped for. Chloe was the most perfect little mulato girl I ever saw: flawless latte colored skin, that same upturned nose and babyface Otis had, and wavy, billowy hair that fell to the small of her back. She took on that beautiful local accent, halfway between Hungarian and California surfer. She got straight As, and volunteered at the aquarium almost every evening since she was fourteen. That one part I didn't get. Why was she so obsessed with the aquarium? Learning the truth shocked me so much, and at the same time I wondered why I didn't see it coming from years away.

Otis lavished a surprising amount of attention on Chloe, despite her being a 'business baby', as they called them in Skandia, apparently because such a thing was commonplace here. He took her mini-golfing every weekend, and gave her armfuls of Christmas and birthday presents every year. I never asked him for any of that, but never complained either.

The warm July sun felt good on my arms, exposed from my green tie-dye tee shirt. I wore clip on shades over my coke-bottle glasses. My far sightedness got so bad that my doctor said I'd need surgery soon, making me all the more thankful that Chloe inherited Otis's perfect vision.

I walked down the gray-blue carpeted hall with whitewash walls to my left and windows to my right. I looked out the windows to see cobblestone pathways around massive netted off pools. Seel and Dewgong swam around in one of the larger, donut shaped tanks, while several more lazed on the island in its center. A darkened tank in an artificial cave held Shuckle scurrying about the gravel bottom. A wavepool even held a Laprass whom children could hand feed.

Why did Chloe insist on volunteering at the aquarium on her birthday? Whatever the case, I thought it would be nice for me to drive her home for cake and presents, instead of making her take the bus. I looked to my left as I passed by the old fashioned lacquered wooden doors with cast-iron skeleton locks. Chloe volunteered at room nine in this hallway, mixing up meals for the Pokemon at the aquarium from things like fish chunks, fish meal, bone meal, vitamin powder, and gelatin.

I passed room seven, eight, and finally stopped at nine. Raising my hand, about to knock on the door, I heard high pitched whimpering from inside. I gasped, and the hair on my neck stood on end. Chloe! Was she hurt? Then sighs mixed with the whimpers, and I recognized them as the familiar sounds of pleasure. I huffed in relief and the hairs on my neck relaxed. That's why Chloe volunteered at the aquarium! She had a boyfriend here. I'd have to ask her to introduce him. In the meantime, I'd walk around the aquarium and come back after she'd finished. But some greedy, sadistic tingle crept its way down my spine and between my legs. I licked my lips and softly bit my tongue. I felt ashamed, but couldn't stop myself. I crouched down on the balls of my flip flops and peaked through the large keyhole. A shock of ice shot through my body when I saw it. I gasped and then bit my clenched fist to keep my voice down. My eyes widened and the hair on my neck stood up again, but this time in a good way.

The tin buckets of nasty foodstuffs sat ignored on the stainless steel counter on the room's left side. A gray rubber mat, about the size of a small living room, laid on the concrete floor. On the mat sat a pile of green, red, blue, and yellow bean bag chairs, which were possibly this country's favorite piece of furniture. Cute little Chloe, sixteen years old, rested in an s shape on the pile, her legs splayed outward, hair draped over the bean bag chairs, and not a scrap of clothing on her body.

Chloe held her small breasts in her hands, kneading them one at a time like a Meowth, and rubbing her forefingers in circles over her chocolate nipples with their quarter sized areolas. I couldn't see her expression, or between her legs. Things blocked them. At first the sight was too much for me to even realize what they were. Chloe rubbed her feet against something green and blue, with yellow stripes, that had buried itself between her legs. She rubbed her hands against something brown and pink, with pink spots, that had latched onto her face. She whimpered and sighed into it. What were those things? In my shock I forgot all perception of touch, and only what I saw and heard existed. I looked at it as if staring into the horizon. Something about the sight crushed my conscious thought, and I couldn't understand what I saw.

A split second later, I blinked and looked away. Something to the right of the pile of bean bag chairs caught my attention: a black spiral bound notebook with rings rusted, covers tattered, and pages cracked and yellowed from unheard of age. Mom's poems! I thought I lost that book years ago! It suddenly hit me that I lost that notebook a few months before Chloe started volunteering at the aquarium.

I looked back at Chloe, only then understanding that those were Gastrodon on her! The green, east-sea, Gastrodon buried its head between her legs. No doubt, its bulbous, gluey tongue wriggled inside her sex. The red, west-sea, Gastrodon lay splayed out on her chest, her tits barely sticking out from its sides while it shoved its mouth against hers. She moaned into its throat and pulled its head closer to hers.

Then I noticed more. Chloe's hair looked wet, as did her body all over, as did the bean bag chairs. She lifted a hand off her right breast and strands of clear, sticky slime stretched between her breast and her fingers.

The red Gastrodon pulled away from Chloe's mouth, eliciting mournful eyes and whines of desire as she leaned toward him.

"Gassstro," the red Gastrodon trilled.

The green Gastrodon looked up, pulling its green, bulb ended tongue from her pussy with a squelch, and pulling stretchy trails of gluey, greenish saliva from the pearl pink insides of her pussy.

"What the hell's this for?" Chloe wined.

"Gasstro!" The red Gastrodon trilled again.

The red Gastrodon turned and stretched its body around on Chloe's chest, suctioning her small tits and coating them in more slime, making her giggle and wriggle her shoulders. The green Gastrodon turned around as the red one slithered up beside it. They nodded to each other.

"Whatever you're planning, it'd better be worth it," Chloe said. "Otherwise I'm squeezing you both dry."

The two Gastrodon looked back at Chloe, who raised an eyebrow at what I only imagined was some devious expression. They wriggled themselves backwards until their behinds rested above Chloe's crotch, and I saw it. Their wormlike cocks, green and red, pried their way out of slits in their bellies and into Chloe like tentacles. Those cocks wrapped around each other and wriggled deeper inside Chloe as she wined, squeezed her eyes shut, and lifted her legs into the air.

With that, the Gastrodon were upon her. They stretched their necks out, each took a foot into their mouths, and sucked, wrapping their bulb ended tongues around her heels and between her toes, leaving Chloe's feet soaked in green gluey saliva and making Chloe grab the bean bag chairs beside her and arch her back as she squealed. Chloe's toes were her weak spot. I knew it because even as a baby, she squirmed when I tickled them.

I slid my head down the door, away from the view of those two Gastrodon fucking my daughter. I remembered taking her to this aquarium as a toddler. They let her pet a pair of baby Shellos, and she seemed entranced as her hands came back sticky. Those Gastrodon had to be them!

I noticed only then that I'd been sobbing that whole time, still biting a clenched fist to keep my voice down. My mind wandered back to mom's old poems, to the verse I usually skipped over. Gastrodon, green and red. Stick your gluey tongues inside my sopping cunt and suck up that green cum with your green slaver. Crawl onto my tits and kiss me both at once, forcing your cum and drool down my throat. Break that kiss and lick up your juices from my cheeks and neck as they dribble down. I love you Gastrodon. And I love you, Gastrodon.

Somehow, that verse didn't seem as gross as it used to. And Chloe, you probably thought I wrote those poems, didn't you? I'll have to tell you the truth eventually. But for then I couldn't stop sobbing, but from what?

I sobbed from gut wrenching joy. I sobbed in joy, remembering what I eventually came to know as my mother's suicide letter. When you fall in love with Pokemon, they die. My mother left my Arbok to die at an abusive shelter. Her uncle ground up her own Gastrodon in a wood chipper. And her mother's father impaled her Gliscor through the heart with a railroad spike. I never knew anything about that Gliscor, and that always pained me. It hurt even worse not knowing if this cycle had gone on since before even my grandmother. But however far it went back, it ended with Chloe McKieth. Your Gastrodon wouldn't die. They'd be with you until their oldest years. I'd make sure of that myself.

Then I noticed my other hand had wandered to my own pussy, its fingers hopelessly trying to relieve the itch and heat within. I'll leave you to your Gastrodon Chloe. I needed my lover girl, my Eelektross. My milk lost its sweetness a few years ago, and Eelektross stopped nursing, and I stopped producing. Still, every once in a while we'd manage a night of sex just as good as it was all those years ago. That night was one of them.

I remembered that from three years ago. It was noon on my daughter's sixteenth birthday. It was the best birthday I ever had, even if it wasn't mine.

---

I shook my head and snapped out of my daydream, back to the present. I sat at my black laminated L-Shaped desk in my office barely large enough to fit it. I pushed banded stacks of paperwork all over my desk and onto the floor, looking for what interrupted my memories.

A videocomm., like a flat panel monitor, laid flat on the desk beneath a pile of old, yellow shipping receipts, beeping. I pressed the glowing white button on its corner and the comm. flickered on to show the image of a very young boy in a navy blazer and black tee shirt. If it weren't for his green eyes, I might've thought him an albino. I leaned forward in my red leather office chair and squinted, and saw blonde rather than white hair, but just barely. I kept putting off that eye surgery, a bad idea.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"Yeah, is this PL studios?" he answered in a non-distinct American accent.

"It is," I answered.

"I saw the wanted ad in today's paper."

"We always have several ads, be more specific."

"The one about the Bunneary boy," the boy said, irritated.

"Oh, that one!" I replied in a cheerier tone. If I nabbed the star for that role, it'd surely get me a great, big, fat bonus. "Let me show your face to the boss, see if she likes it."

I pushed the button on the comm. and blindly reached for a phone beneath another stack of papers. I memorized Coral's office number by touch and dialed it. After one ring, she picked up.

"I see him Christie," Coral said. "He's the one we've been looking for all this time. Let him in." She hung up. That was quick!

I hung up the phone turned on the comm. again. "She likes your face, come on in," I said, and turned off the comm.

I sighed, propped and elbow on a stack of paper, and rested my chin on my hand. I looked out the window to the view of two Gastrodon, an east-sea and west-sea, green and red, lounging at the edge of a pool. A Flygon slept on a white lounge chair on the concrete island at its center. An Arbok slithered past the pool and out of sight, daughter of my once best friend, now one of the studio's Pokemon stars.

Suddenly a long black haired, latte skinned girl emerged from the water by the pool's edge. She stroked down the necks of the two Gastrodon, who leaned into her hands. I smiled. On her seventeenth birthday, this country's age of adulthood, Chloe applied to work at this studio, and in one summer became its biggest star. She made five times more much money in those few months than I did in a year of processing paperwork here! And my boss, well, she bought those Gastrodon from the aquarium, and made this estate their new home. Chloe pulled herself out of the pool and walked away. The Gastrodon followed. I didn't have to guess what they were going to do.

I picked up a pencil and started chewing its eraser, wondering, would she ever have kids? And if so, would they fall in love with slimy or serpentine Pokemon? The thought made my whole body feel warm.